The gift that keeps on giving.

One of the outfits we received for the polliwog as a birth present was from my lovely sister-and-brother-in-law, who have recently spawned as well.  It is a blue one-piece outfit with a pithy saying on the front: "Outer space exists because it's afraid to be on the same planet as Chuck Norris."  On the rear of the outfit, strategically placed, is a silhouette of Chuck Norris:

He's finally grown into the outfit and wore it for the first time this week, which has led to several statistically improbable conversations in the past few hours.

Exhibit #1:

"He's got a spider on him! Mom! There's a spider on him!"

"No, honey. That's not a spider. That's Chuck Norris."

Exhibit #2:

(after a bowel movement has noisily announced itself and is testing the boundaries of his diaper, and he is sitting on my lap getting wiggly while simultaneously looking extremely satisfied)

"Could someone get me a diaper?"

[wind whistles through the kitchen as no one responds]

"Could someone get me a diaper and some wipes, please?"

[continued lack of family response]

"If SOMEone doesn't get me a diaper and give me some help, there is going to be poop on Chuck Norris. And we don't want that."